Pink Brutus Knits Blog

stitching the form

i’ve been looking at the same person in the mirror for nearly 12,000 days and she changes a little every time i see her. changes inside and out.

i don’t think i’ll have a typical mid-life crisis because i think that usually comes from a feeling of un-accomplishment. i have lived the life of a jack. my feelings are more of un-focus and i don’t know that regret can lay dormant there.

if you give me clay and a wheel i will throw you a bowl or dozen

if you give me pencil and paper i will draw you a portrait

if you ask me about physics i’ll refer you to star dust

if you give me an airplane i will fly it

if you give me a horse i will ride it, train it, jump it, gate it, show it, and win

if you ask me about loss i will raise my sleeve

if you give me seed i will grow it

if you give me a guitar i will tune it and maybe play it a little

if you ask me about religion i will smile and tell you things you’ve never heard

if you give me fabric i will sew it

if you give me a baby i will birth it - on my bedroom floor

if you ask me about paint i will tell you how to use it, what it’s made of, if it’s transparent or opaque, and why

if you give me a block i will carve you a print

if you give me yarn and needles i will knit you a sweater

if you ask me about biology i’ll tell you that plants are the most magical creatures residing here and why

i find myself wondering if there are medicinal uses for poison ivy as i knit and reflect on the label “nettles (stinging)” and as i type this i hear “…sits next to the stinging nettles. put a penny in the slot and make an artificial light shine…”

blog friend.

regretting my non-blog days is moot. nothing happens too soon or too late - only precisely when it’s meant to. we manipulate each other the way a pebble manipulates a lake - turning a touch into a ripple.

despair was nipping at my heels as i tried to keep stride ahead of it but i was becoming tired and willing to let it catch up to me. i dreamily asked for help just before slipping into the night’s slumber and the next morning help arrived. the gift of givers taking the place of the takers and i could feel the wind shift that day.

it’s a good time to begin thanking and asking for more, please. it’s a beautiful life. xo